Where the heart is
by UntemperedWolf
Summary: Rose wants to see fireworks. The Doctor's more than happy to comply.


"So," Rose begins, her feet tucked under her legs as she sits, lounging across the jumpseat. "I was the thinking,"

The Doctor, lying down, beneath the grating fixing the temporal thingy (or something along those lines) surely pulls an expression which Rose never knows is pulled in humour or not. "That's never good," he responds and if she was in his sight, he'd see her stick her tongue out at him. Instead, she has to resort to sticking it out towards his feet: the only thing she can see of him.

She moves on. "I was thinking, of all these planets and space station Earth spreads out too, there ought to be specialised planets. Like Disney world, but an actual world." There's a question in there, somewhere, and Rose is sure with his big "superior" brain, he'll figure it out.

The Doctor's head peeks out of the grating and if it wasn't a common sight upon the TARDIS, it'll be comical. Rose is sad to report her mind now processes it as _usual_. (It's crazy how her life has changed in these past months. She used to define normal as sitting watching EastEnders with a tray of chips and a portion of fish she shares with her Mum. Now, if she's lucky, it's a plate of chips made by a multi-dimensional sentient timeship in front of a TV, which can only be described as a screen, that holds all the channels ever to be in time and space).

"Are you asking to go to Disney world—or, as Disney coined it, Disney Planet?" The Doctor asks. Rose wonders if it's amusement or despair she sees glinting in those blue eyes of his. She concludes it's probably both—she can almost hear the _silly ape_ which surely is going around his head. ( _"all of time and space and you want Disney?"_ )

"Because you'd have a choice. There's the original Disney Planet, opened in the late 22nd century, then there's the 24th century's New Disney Planet or Disney Universe: the solar system dedicated just to all things Disney, as made in the 32nd century." The added-on comment sparks Rose to wonder if actually it was more tinted towards amusement. (She thinks she's growing on him; already he's begun calling the time when she sleeps 'night-time' after all and having his 'morning cuppa').

"Actually, I wanted to know if there was planets dedicated to things. Like, _festivities_ ," Rose interrupts the Doctor as he no doubt was about to embark on telling her about more Disney related places they could visit. (As much as she loves Disney, it's not the point right now, not the thing she's trying to ask about).

The Doctor gives her a look. (The words _silly ape_ resonates in her mind again). "Of course there is. Planet Christmas, Planet Valentine, Planet Easter, you name it. They've all got a planet dedicated to all things festive," He leaves the sentence with a loose finish, but his unvoiced question still hits ears; _what planet would you like to visit?_ His eyes are wide, eager. She'd compare them to a puppy ready to please— _impress—_ but those eyes are also far too sharp so the comparison _of_ a tamed wolf comes to mind. (Or at least a wolf wanting to play at being domestic).

"Is there a..." Rose trails off, doubt suddenly clouding in her mind and she feels silly for even thinking of asking. (It's not _really_ a special night, she's not even too sure why they still even celebrate it, and it's only relevant to Britain anyway). She regrets hesitating instantly, because now his eyebrows are furrowing—he knows something's up. She curses herself; she should've just asked to see Disney Universe or whatever he called it, and been done with it. It would've made a nice day and she wouldn't be feeling insecure.

The Doctor's head becomes a body as he hoists himself up from inside the grating to sitting on it, with only his legs dangling inside. His leather jacket has been shedded long before, his jumper sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Rose faintly wonders when he got so comfortable with her—or perhaps more importantly when _she_ got so comfortable with him, as she looks down at her minimalist pyjamas (just a tee and some shorts with fluffy pink socks. Before the Doctor, she was only ever this comfortable around her Mum, Mickey included. She may have had sex with Mickey but this feels far more intimate and maybe that's why she feels so shy about her request. She doesn't want to find out what finally makes him judge her).

"Is there what?" the Doctor asks gently, his eyes connecting with hers. She wants to look away but his gaze is intense, strong in it's hold over her so she's powerless to do anything but gaze back at him, displaying all her doubts for him to see.

He doesn't use his words, and perhaps it is worse, for then she can't fight them, but he assures her with his eyes he's not going to judge her. (He never does. He just projects enthusiasm for her requests which only fuels her own. It's what made her fall in love with him).

"Is there a Bonfire Night planet?" Rose asks, braving herself. Fireworks, fires and sticks made into a man who was executed is nothing special, not enough to have a whole planet dedicated after it. It's a silly thought, to Rose, to think once humans get out there they'd still be caught up on an event which happened centuries before her time but she asks him even still because this is the Doctor—History's number one fan. At the very least, she reckons, what she'd get out of this, is an invitation to see the execution itself. (A nice day trip and Rose never refuses an invitation to parade around in period dress).

"No," the Doctor says and her heart sinks. She tries not to display her disappointment so plainly on her face but it's hard, she's only human, and it's crushing. Rose never truly believed they'd be one, but still she hoped, and it's that hope now what has crushed up her heart and thrown it into a deep chasm. (She supposes she was feeling a little bit homesick, feeling a longing for something to remind her of home).

"There is, however, a colony founded by humans which has very much kept the annual firework tradition alive. The meaning has gotten lost throughout the ages but it's a huge event that attracts hundreds of off-worlders per year." The Doctor adds on, his tone casual as if he didn't notice her obvious heartbreak or if he doesn't know for well those words reignites her hope, her longing and makes him her hero. (When is he not, though? Screw knight in shining armour; she's happy with her worn-torn doctor in leather, thank you very much).

The Doctor grins at her, his eyes most definitely sparkling with amusement now. "What do you say? Are we going to drop by?" He proposed a question, already knowing the answer as Rose mirrors his grin.

The grin is all the response he needs, lifting himself fully from the grating and standing up. "Go get some clothes on, then." He does his typical shooing her off which Rose, as usual, rolls her eyes at as she walks away to her room with a spring in her step.

The Doctor didn't provide her with any guidance of what to wear—Rose has learnt when traveling in the TARDIS it's always good to ask about dress code otherwise you'll end up getting arrested for "indecent" exposure for wearing a skirt—however, by the time she gets to her room, there are clothes laying nearly on her bed.

 _Thank you_ Rose thinks gratiously towards to the TARDIS, still unsure if she imagines the appreciative hum she gives in response. Rose knows the Doctor said she's sentient, and the way she almost mothers Rose is enough proof of that, but Rose still wonders if she imagines getting an actual response from her. Even still, she appreciates the things the TARDIS does for her. The numerous of times she's had a nice, warm bath ready for her after particularly exhausting adventures come to mind. Or, like today, the times she selects Rose's clothes to be appropriate when her pilot neglects to mention it. (The TARDIS has definitely saved Rose from being thrown into prison, or executed, due to that—although, thanks to the Doctor—she does always seem end up still in prison).

The clothes the TARDIS has laid out are ones just lifted from her wardrobe—she could wear them in her time and attract no stares. Rose notes the jumper also provided, guessing wherever this planet is, it must have a chill. She dresses quickly, knowing from past experience it's never good to keep the Doctor waiting if she wants to avoid a light-hearted running about slow apes, and heads back towards the console room.

The Doctor greets her with a smile, standing ready himself, his hand hovering over the controls. Rose stands beside him with a smile of her own and excitement coursing through her body.

The first step onto a new planet is always Rose's favourite part. The Doctor stands behind Rose as she takes the planet in. The sky is a pure lilac colour with wisps of yellow sewn through, and brightly coloured leaves paint the ground. These planets, to Rose, always make her feel as if she's stepped into a storybook.

"What'd you think?" the Doctor mummers beside her. He's closer than she thought, and the sound of his voice, low and rumbling, so close to her is more magical than any planet. She glanced up at him. He's looking down at her, his eyes as unreadable as ever, but Rose knows he's looking for her praise, her amazement—her recognise his impressiveness. And Rose has never been one to deny him.

"It's beautiful," Rose lets her awe leak into her voice, before screwing up her nose, taking another look around. "But I would've thought the fireworks would've started at night, not day." Amongst the light lilac skies sits two beaming suns, lighting up the world. A lot of things may be restricted only to Earth, but Rose has found, suns shining is the universal marking of day.

"It is," the Doctor says, slipping his hand into hers. "I thought we'd have a look around before night falls," he tells her and Rose grins at him, letting him see just how much she thinks of that idea.

"It's late afternoon now so we have about four hours,"

Four hours later, near enough, Rose stand among the locals—humanoid individuals who has a deep olive skin tone which is tinted slightly with a purple hue—and other off-worlders. They stand on a pink grassed field, with a huge pyre in the centre, the crowd around it seeming to go on for miles. Rose was quite pleased to see on the pyre is a man resembling figure, true to the original Guy Fawkes tradition. The suns have set and the sky has turned from the light lilac to a deep only violet. There is quite a few rows in front of them, so they're not standing right near the pyre, still closer than some, though. However the Doctor told her it doesn't really matter how close you are to the pyre as the main display is the fireworks, which are set to go off shortly.

Rose notices people around them laying down blankets and popping up chairs. With an inquisitive look, she turns to the Doctor.

"The displays go on all night," he tells her while reaching into his pockets, pulling out a blanket from his pockets. "People don't want to stand for that long so they make little camps to sit in." He lays down the blanket, straightening it out, before yet again amazing Rose with his trans-dimensional pockets by pulling out another blanket. The Doctor sits down on the first blanket, patting the space beside him.

Once sat, she nods at the other blanket, left to one side. "What's that one for?" she asks.

"Later. For if you get cold," He doesn't duck his head, or colour, as he answers her but Rose can tell he's embarrassed by the sentiment. She gently squeezes his arm in appreciation, and then, an announcement for the beginning of the fireworks rings out, sparing him from anymore embarrassment.

A bang marks the first firework. It's bigger than any Earth firework, lighting up the whole sky, and in turn, the whole field. The colours are more vibrant, too, more mesmerising. Rose stares up at the sky, as more goes off, completely captured in awe and wonder. It's times like these Rose is grateful, thanks to the Doctor, she's able to experience things like this.

Later, when the night has fully set, and Rose is snuggled underneath a blanket and against the Doctor's side, he breaks their awed silence with a question.

"Are you missing home? Is that why you asked—you know we can visit whenever you wish," The Doctor's voice is low, a soft mummer, to not disrupt the peaceful atmosphere. Rose thinks back to her earlier thought which sparked today's trip and decides she's not homesick after all. In response to the Doctor she merely snuggles closer to him, with a light smile on her face. Home is where the heart is, and her heart is most definitely with the Doctor.


End file.
